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FROM  THE   LIBRARY  OF 


REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON.  D.  D. 


BEQUEATHED   BY  HIM   TO 
THE   LIBRARY  OF 


PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

- 


/ys?5 


F^£ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


http://archive.org/details/onwayOOthom 


©n  tbe  Ma?. 


<^ 


MAY   10  1933  ^ 


m 


NEW  YORK; 

1895. 


"They    that    say   such   things  declare  plainly   that 
they  seek  a  country." 

Ep.  to  the  Hebrews   xi  :  14. 


%o  the  gtXcmovy  of 
2*1  y  xu&ifc. 

Mary  Carpenter  Thompson. 
Died  August  15,  1887. 


On  the  morning  of  the  seventh  of  February.  1896, 
after  patiently  enduring  weary  pain  for  many  weeks. 
Dr.  Thompson  found  "  the  country"  he  sought,  and 
entered  into  "  the  rest  that  remaineth  for  the  people 
of  God." 


Eternal  rest  grant  unto  him  O  Lord, 
And  let  perpetual  light  shine  on  him." 

M.  c. 


Of  the  contents  of  this  volume  much  has  appeared 
in  the  Sunday  School  Times.  Its  re-appearance  in 
this  form  is  by  the  courteous  consent  of  the  pub- 
lishers of  that  paper. 


COPYRIGHT. 


fln&er. 


PAGE. 

Dandelions g 

Buttercups  and  daisies h 

The  Yoke 13 

Hammock  musings 15 

As  in  a  glass,  darkly 17 

Night  unto  night  showeth  knowledge ig 

Church  bells 21 

Sunset 2;: 

Rest 2-T 

He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep 27 

Lamps  burning 29 

Show  us  the  Father 31 

Psalm  XXIII 33 

Pilgrim  song 34 

Thou  hast  beset  me 35 

This  is  the  rest 

Thy  Will  be  done 39 

God's  Husbandry , 41 


PAGE. 

Good-bye 43 

Eventide 45 

The  gate  of  heaven 47 

Mizpah 40 

Able  to  save 51 

Crossing  the  River 52 

Out  of  Galilee 55 

The  Three  Pillars s7 

Behold!  I  stand  at  the  door  59 

We  wrestle 60 

Lord  remember  me 61 

Foregleams 62 

Face  to  face  64 

From  earth  to  heaven G6 

The  Cross  and  the  Crown 68 

The  Two  Sentinels 69 

In  the  garden  a  new  sepulchre 72 

At  the  Mile  Stone 74 

Faint  yet  Pursuing 77 

For  a  season 78 

If  need  be So 

Took  part  of  the  same £2 


That  they,  without  us,  should  not  be  made  perfect 83 

The  Veil 65 

No  Night  tin  re 86 

Till  the  day  break 87 

If  ade  so  much  better  than  th<                  Sg 

Adoration g  1 

The  Remnant 92 

Thy  will,  not  mine 94 

My  portion 95 

Wayside  Song 97 

Love  is  strong  as  death 9S 


©n  tbe  Map. 


E>anDelions. 

Spangles  of  gold  in  amid  the  green, 
Breaking  with  light  through  the  grassy  screen, 
As  if  an  angel  had  trodden  there. 
Leaving  his  footprints  of  beauty  rare. 

Or  if,  as  ever  an  unseen  hand 
Torch-bearing,  passed  over  all  the  land, 
Here  and  there  touching  the  way-side  sod. 
Setting  aflame  all  these  lamps  of  God. 

First  to  proclaim  that  the  spring  is  here, 
A\  ith  its  warm  breath  and  its  eyebeams  clear. 
And  its  fair  choristers,  music  sweet 
Making,  each  step  of  its  dainty  feet. 

Decking  the  tangle  of  leafy  hair 
Over  earth's  forehead,  all  brown  and  bar<  , 
When  she  awakes  at  the  robin's  song- 
Ringing  the  meadows  and  woods  along. 


DANDELIONS. 

Remnants  of  Paradise,  signs  divine 
Of  the  day  coming,  when  earth  will  shine 
With  the  same  beauty  that  graces  Heaven; 
Eden  to  Eden  thus  linking  even. 

Where  did  you  gather  your  grains  of  gold, 
Hoarding  them  up  in  the  dark  brown  mold, 
Under  the  lid  of  the  grass-grown  sod  ? 
Oh.  but  who  showed  you  this  gold  of  God  ! 

Never  by  culture  of  human  hand 
Spreading  your  beauty  athwart  the  Land, 
Kissed  by  the  ambient  morning  air, 
Mayhap  the  angels  your  gardeners  were. 

Delicate  clusters  of  seeds  with  wings, 
Catching  the  wind-skirts,  the  fairy  tilings, 
Leaping  at  will  to  the  grass-grown  ground, 
When  a  new  place  for  a  nest  is  found. 

Aye  !  and  your  beauty  of  gold  and  grey, 
Ever  and  ever  it  seems  to  say, 
Flaming  and  soft  in  the  sunlit  dew. 
Doth  not  your  Father  care  more  Cor  you? 


buttercups  au^  5>aistcs. 

Buttercup*  and  daie 

Silver  threads  and  gold, 
In  and  out  the  green  graae 

Woven  myriad-fold. 
Sown  by — who  hath  sown  them 

Who  may  have  a  care? 
I  Sod  Himself  hath  sown  them 

In  His  garden  fair. 

Garniture  resplendent 

Over  hill  and  dale. 
I  as  of  the  sunshine, 

Flake-  of  moonlight  pale, 
King-cups  with  their  gold  rims, 

Pearl-  embroidered  over 
Plain  and  valley,  sparkling 

"Mid  the  ruddy  clover. 


BUTTERCUPS   AND   DAISIES. 

When  their  eyelids  open 

In  the  sweet  spring-tide, 
Earth  hath  on  apparel 

Fitting  for  a  bride; 
Delicately  woven 

Over  the  brown  clod, 
Radiant  with  jewels 

For  the  eyes  of  God. 

Like  as  doth  His  spring-breath 

Breathe  fair  life  and  bloom 
Over  frozen  meadows 

Locked  in  winter's  tomb, 
So  might  God's  own  Spirit 

Breathe  His  life  in  me, 
Dull  and  sere  heart  hiding 

With  love's  broiderv. 


Zbc  yoke. 

Onder  the  shade  of  a  walnut  tree, 

I  leaned  on  the  fence  one  summer  day, 
Watching  the  butterfly  and  the  bee, 
Breathing  the  fragrance  of  new-made  hay. 
The  hayricks  stood  the  meadow  over, 
Dark  with  the  purple  of  faded  clover, 
And  the  farmer  trudged  around  his  field, 
And  laughed  to  think  of  the  luscious  yield. 

Within  the  bars  was  an  empty  wain. 

Its  skeleton  rack  outspreading  high, 
But  toughly  wrought  for  the  heavy  strain 
Surely  to  come  on  it  by  and  by. 

Heavy  enough,  thought  I,  and  the  pull. 
What  will  it  be  when  they  (ill  it  full.— 
When  the  clumsy  thing  creeps  up  the  road 
Under  the  weight  of  its  mighty  load  ? 

Anon  they  brought  to  the  wagon's  side 

An  ox  that  was  grand  for  size  and  strength, 
Stalwart  and  sleek,  and  with  shining  hide, 
A  sight  to  see  in  his  height  and  length. 
They  put  on  his  neck  the  heavy  yoke 
With  hand  as  light  as  a  baby's  stroke: 
Moveless  he  stood  with  a  placid  face, 
As  if  they  had  put  on  him  bands  of  lace. 


THE   YOKE. 

Then  to  yoke  in  with  this  giant  mild, 

They  brought  a  young  bullock,  slight  and  slim; 
His  limbs  were  trembling,  his  eyes  were  wild, 
And  they  tried  to  get  the  yoke  on  him; 
With  snort  of  terror,  and  plunge  and  strain, 
He  tugged  and  pulled  with  his  might  and  main: 
Over  and  over  away  lie  broke, 
Ere  they  could  fasten  on  him  the  yoke. 

But  under  the  yoke  went  he  at  length: 

The  wain  was  piled  with  the  fragrant  store, 
They  heaped  and  pressed  it  with  all  their  strength, 
Till  the  creaking  ribs  would  hold  no  more. 
Then  out  of  the  field,  along  the  road, 
Away  they  went  with  the  swaying  load, 
All  by  the  strength  of  the  great  ox  strong; 
The  load  and  the  other  he  pulled  along. 

And  there  was  something  that  said  to  me, 
"  This  one  unused  to  the  yoke  art  thou  : 
Oh,  but  the  other  !  how  strong  is  He, 
Who  to  thy  burden  was  fain  to  bow. 
Bending  His  neck  to  the  dreadful  strain, 
Yoked  by  His  Father  to  human  pain, 
Then  to  thee  saying,  "Yoke  in  with  Me, 
And  I  will  carry  thv  load  and  thee.-" 


f>ammocfc  Ausftige. 

Here  in  my  hammock  I  lie  and  swing 
Under  the  shade  of  the  apple-trees  ; 
Hither  there  comes  to  me  on  the  wing 
Of  the  mild  westerly  summer  breeze, 
Odor  of  clover-heads  white  and  red, 
Over  the  meadow-land  freshly  shed: 
Carpet  is  spread  o'er  the  orchard  old. 
Silvery  daisy  and  buttercup  gold. 

Hazy  and  dim  on  the  broad  blue  rim, 

Thrusting  their  heads  in  the  very  sky. 
Massive  and  silent  and  rough  and  grim. 
Stand  up  the  sentinel  mountains  high. 
Warders  around  the  horizon  they, 
In  their  green  panoply,  helmed  in  grey, 
Ever  are  saying,  with  ne'er  a  sound, 
So  His  beloved  is  He  around 


HAMMOCK  MUSINGS. 

Orev  the  meadow-slopes  farther  down, 

Louder  than  laugh  of  the  merry  brook, 
Tinkles  the  bell  of  the  cattle  brown, 

Luring  the  indolent  eye  to  look. 
Flashes  a  red-wingecl  blackbird  over 
Reaches  of  golden-rod  and  sweet  clover  ; 
Robins  are  going,  with  laugh  and  dash. 
For  the  red  clusters  of  mountain-ash. 

Lazily  drifting,  the  purple  smoke 

Floats  from  the  mountain-side  clearing  yonder, 
Where  the  deep  forests  of  pine  and  oak 

Fell,  the  sharp  axe  of  the  woodman  under. 
There,  at  the  kiss  of  the  lover  sun, 
Blushes  of  bloom  o'er  the  fresh  soil  run, 
And  the  gaunt,  flame -blackened  stumps  between. 
Patches  of  gold  are,  and  lines  of  green. 

Lowliest  fern-frond  and  cliff  sublime, 
Marked  with  His  monogram  I  behold  ; 

Purpose  eternal  revealed  in  time, 
Witnessing  as  in  the  ages  old. 

Ravine  of  rock  over  lowland  fair, 

Balmy  and  sweet  music-laden  air, 

Birds  in  the  branches,  and  clouds  above, 

Brightness  of  beauty  and  life  in  love. 


Be  in  a  glass,  fcarfUv. 


Tis  a  fair  vision  when  the  gate  of  day 

The  angels  swing 
Wide,  for  the  chariot  in  superb  array 
Of  morning,  coming  up  the  heavenly  way, 

As  rides  a  king. 

And  fair,  when  as  the  gorgeous  day-beams  sweep 

O'er  earth  and  sky, 
Flushes  with  ruddy  smile  the  rock-cliff  steep. 
And  golden  glory  clothes  the  hoary  deep, 

The  mountains  high. 

Fair,  when  their  offering  pure  without  alloy, — 

A  dew-filled  cup, — 
The  flowers  with  hands  that  tremble  with  the  joy, 
Anemone,  white  daisies,  violets  coy, 

Are  lifting  up. 

Fair,  when  the  bluebird,  first-born  of  the  spring, 

Flaunts  in  the  air 
His  azure  vesture  ;  when,  on  nimble  wing, 
The  oriole  flashes  with  a  radiant  fling; 

'Tis  wondrous  fair. 


AS  IN  A   GLASS,    DARKLY. 

What  will  it  be  to  see  these  very  things 

With  heaven-lit  sight: 
Clear  from  the  darkening  haze  that  sorrow  brings, 
Clear  from  the  shadows  creeping  "neath  the  wings 

Of  earthly  light  ? 

All  these  to  see,  but  not  by  mortal  sense, 

Inert  and  vain  ; 
That  sees  but  dimly,  by  the  light  intense 
Blinded,  bewildered,  darkened  only  thence, 

And  dull  with  pain. 

We  walk  in  twilight,  often  into  night 

Declining  fast: 
But  they,  the  blessed,  walk  in  perfect  light, 
That  needs  no  sunbeam  for  unhindered  sight. 

Day  breaks  at  last. 

Not  always  in  a  glass,  and  darkly  so, 

Our  sight  will  be. 
These  things  of  God,  and  more  than  now  we  know 
Or  dream,  His  love  will  to  His  children  show. 

Wait  patiently  ! 


Hicibt  unto  ntfibt  sbewetb  knowledge. 


Let  there  be  light!  Hi^  Spirit  waketh 

Out  of  its  sleep 

The  dark  void  deep: 
Then  light,  born  of  His  word.  He  taketh. 

The  angel  of  His  will, 

His  mandate  to  fulfill; 
The  flame  His  minister  He  maketh. 

Swifter  than  runs  the  swiftest  river, 

The  subtle  ray 

Flashes  its  way  ; 
Swifter  than  shaft  from  archer's  quiver. 

If  daring  numbers  sought 

To  measure,  they  are  nought : 
Swifter  than  aught  but  thought's  quick  Bhiver 

What  thought  of  man  the  two  conibineth. 

Imagining 

That  it  can  bring- 
In  one,  whence  light  came,  whither  shineth? 

Its  milestones  are  the  years 

Shot  past  ere  light  appears 
On  our  dim  sight.     So  it  divineth. 


»9 


NIGHT    ONTO   NIGHT  SHOWETB    KNOWLEDGE. 

We  hail  the  morn,  how  little  dreaming 

That  wealth  of  good, 

In  endless  flood, 
From  myriad  suns  on  us  is  streaming. 

Dazed  by  the  nearest  sun, 

As  if  the  only  one, 
It  is  light's  source  to  our  seeming. 

But  down  the  west  with  regal  splendor. 

And  out  the  gate, 

In  gorgeous  state, 
Goes  lie,  and  falls  the  evening  tender; 

Then  from  the  ether  far 

.Star  shineth  after  star, 
In  beauty  delicate  and  slender. 

And  then  we  see,  by  night's  sweet  showing 

Grandly  revealed, 

What  day  concealed, 
Ten  thousand  streams  of  glory  flowing, 

That  never  cease  to  flow  ; 

But  only  night  can  show 
What  lavish  light  God  is  bestowing. 


Cburcb  JSelte, 

The  music  of  a  choir  of  bells. 

In  winsome  harmony, 
Comes  rippling  down  the  pleasant  air, 

As  wavelets  on  the  sea. 
Xo  dirge  of  time  is  in  their  chime, 

But  only  signal  given, 
As  eight  and  day  we  march  away, 

That  we  come  nearer  heaven. 

The  struggle  sore  for  daily  bread 

Goes  on  'till  set  of  sun, 
Then  pauses,  when  they  give  the  sign 

That  day's  long  work  is  done. 
Then  weary  feet  to  welcome  sweet 

From  toil  and  travail  come, 
When  from  the  tower  they  call  the  hour 

Of  rest  and  peace  and  home. 

When  comes  the  day,  the  blessed  day, — 

The  best  of  all  the  seven, — 
That  sets  wide  open  every  door 

Between  our  hearts  and  heaven, 


CHURCH  BELLS. 

Then  great  and  small  these  sweet  bells  call 

Up  to  the  house  of  prayer, 
And  at  their  cry  the  passer-by 

Goes  in  and  worships  there. 

When  drearily  the  dust  of  death 

Lies  on  the  temple  floor, 
And  "earth"'  upon  its  way  "to  earth"' 

Is  brought  within  the  door, 
The  solemn  toll  for  parted  soul 

Sounds  sadly  overhead, 
While  down  the  aisle  in  long  defile, 

The  living  bear  the  dead. 

We  change  from  spring  to  summer  days, 

To  autumn,  winter  sere, 
But  they  all  days,  year  in  and  out, 

Ring  vibrant  out,  and  clear: 
And  all  the  same  as  first  they  came 

To  us  in  childhood's  day, 
Will  their  sweet  chimes  ring  on  betimes, 

'Till  time  has  passed  away. 


Sunset. 

Siowly  all  around  us  gather 
Shadows  of  the  eventide; 
Home  we  come  to  Thee  0  Father, 

Suffer  us  with  Thee  to  bide. 
Heartfelt  thanks  to  Thee  we  render 

That  at  length  must  labor  cease; 
Small  our  strength,  our  courage  slender, 

Need  have  we  of  rest  and  peace. 

Bright  with  dew-drops  was  the  morning. 

Golden-fair  the  early  light, 
Earth  and  sea  and  sky  adorning 

With  its  splendor  pure  and  bright. 
Birds  their  matin-song  were  singing. 

In  the  fragrant  leafy  bowers: 
Incense-breathing,  worship-bringing, 

Were  the  glory- vested  flowers. 

We  from  quiet  rest  were  waking, 

At  the  gentle  touch  of  day; 
From  the  bonds  of  slumber  breaking, 

Paring  to  our  work  away. 


SUNSET. 

All  day  long  Thine  angels  holy, 
Sent  to  help  us  by  their  King, 

Be  we  lofty,  be  we  lowly, 
Have  our  steps  been  following. 

Lord  of  angels,  Saviour  Jesus! 

While  Thy  watchful  hosts  are  near, 
Harm  or  evil  cannot  seize  us, 

Therefore  will  we  know  no  fear. 
Stronger  than  the  strongest  angel 

Art  Thou,  ever  by  our  side. 
So  has  taught  us  Thine  evangel: 

In  that  faith  we  will  abide. 

Therefore,  though  the  shadows  darken. 

Cheerily  we  fare  along, 
Sure,  Thine  ear  of  love  will  hearken 

While  we  sing  our  pilgrim-song. 
Light  of  life,  departing  never, 

Light  of  earth,  and  Light  of  heaven, 
Earthly  suns  may  set,  but  ever 

Will  Thy  love  make  light  at  even. 


IReet. 

What  rest  is  there  for  him  who  knows  no  labor! 

Hands  idly  folded  all  the  livelong  day, 
Never  a  thought  to  give  to  friend  or  neighbor. 

No  toil  to  share,  no  load  to  lift  away. 

How  can  rest  come  to  him  who  has  no  sorrow! 

Life  drifting  smoothly  and  serenely  by. 
Each  bright  day  followed  by  a  bright  to-morrow, 
And  not  a  cloud  within  his  sunlit  sky. 

What  rest  for  sinews  that  are  never  weary! 

For  life  that  falters  not  beneath  the  strain. 
For  e}'es  that  weep  not  in  the  darkness  dreary, 

Heart  that  goes  not  alone  in  smothered  pain! 

But  rest,  at  length,  how  sweet  to  them  who  under 
The  heavy  burden,  tremulous  and  faint. 

Can  neither  pause  nor  turn,  and  yet  who  wonder 
If  ever  peace  will  soften  sorrow's  plaint. 


REST. 

And  rest  how  passing  sweet,  when  to  love's  waiting, 
Weary  and  sore,  forevermore  is  given 

Love's  fair  fond  treasure,  its  long  pain  abating. 
Once  and  eternally,  in  the  glad  heaven. 

When  toil-worn  feet,  the  last  lone  reaches  making, 
Up  to  the  Father's  door  of  life  have  come, 

And  out  of  lips  the  fairest,  dearest,  breaking, 
Welcome  forever  greets  the  weary  home. 

Then,  nevermore  can  sin  or  sorrow  seize  us; 

Has  He  not  promised:  "I  will  give  you  rest  ?  " 
At  rest,  at  home,  in  Paradise,  with  Jesus; — 

Could  weary  heart  be  more  supremely  blest  ? 


*>e  Qivetb  "tots  belovcO  sleep. 

Oil  precious  gift  of  thoughtful  love! 

To  weariness  the  timeliest 
That  it  can  need  or  ask,  above 

All  price,  the  benison  of  rest! 
The  rest  that  help  and  healing  brings 

To  wakeful  eyes  that  watch  and  weep 
Beneath  its  strong  and  silent  wings. 

He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep. 

And  then  to  them  who  lovingly 

His  tender  hand  to  sleep  hath  stilled, 
He  giveth  on  in  full  and  free 

Bestowal,  till  all  need  is  tilled. 
To  sinew  strength,  so  it  may  bear 

The  burden  of  another  day, 
To  failing  heart  the  will  to  dare 

The  strain  and  peril  of  the  way. 

And  thus  there  cometh  by  His  gift, 
Out  of  this  mimic  death  of  sleep, — 

Marvel  of  love, — the  silent  lift- 
To  fuller  life,  whose  feet  can  keep 

Upon  the  rugged  way  their  hold, 
And  steadily  can  onward  fare. 

Come  toil  and  trouble  manifold, 
Gladness  or  sadness,  peace  or  care. 


HE   GIVETH   HIS   BELOVED  SLEEP. 

He  giveth  sleep,  with  gentle  hand, 

From  weary  limb  and  throbbing  brain, 
His  angel, — to  unclasp  the  band 

That  holds  them  prisoners  to  pain ; 
In  slumber  sweet  He  giveth  peace, 

Longer  or  shorter  let  it  be, 
Yet  for  the  while  a  glad  release. 

A  welcome,  blest  immunity. 

Sometimes  the  waking  here  below 

Is  only  to  another  morn 
Of  time  on  earth;  but  even  so 

His  own  to  fresher  life  are  born. 
And  sometimes  they  from  sleep  awake 

Not  here,  but  on  the  other  side; 
And  so  to  them  has  come  the  break 

Of  the  transcendent  morning-tide. 

A  quiet  sleep,  the  last,  will  be 

His  gift  to  His  beloved,  when 
They  lie  at  rest  as  peacefully 

As  lay  their  buried  King:  and  then. 
As  angels  rolled  away  the  stone, 

And  forth  in  glory  came  the  King, 
With  them,  like  as  with  Him,  His  own 

God  will  to  life  immortal  bring. 


28 


lamps  burning. 

I  did  not  build  the  lofty  light-house  tower 
At  the  reef's  end,  beacon  by  day  and  night; 

Its  solid  strength  came  not  by  wit  or  power 
Of  mine,  nay  nor  its  clear,  far-sweeping  light. 

Not  from  my  brain  evolved  the  kindly  thought, 
How,  storm  or  calm,  a  timely  warning  may 

AVait  for  the  sailor,  by  the  lenses  wrought 
So  skillfully,  set  in  such  grand  array. 

Tis  only  mine,  as  shadows  fall,  to  climb, 
Often  with  failing  feet,  the  slender  stair. 

And  light  with  feeble  hand  the  lamp,  in  time, 
Ere  night  and  tempest  set  a  fatal  snare. 

And  if,  far  off  on  the  dark  wind-swept  sea, 
Some  watchful  eye  shall  catch  the  signal  gleam, 

And  heed  the  warning  given  it  faithfully, 
Though  but  lor  it,  no  peril  near  may  seem; 


LAMPS  BURNING. 

And  I  sit  in  a  dark  room  down  below 
The  blazing  beacon,  mine  to  light  and  tend, 

And  of  that  glad  escape  may  never  know — 

What  then  !  the  light-house  has  fulfilled  its  end. 

If  in  my  station,  be  it  gale  or  calm, 

I  stand,  feet  weary,  eyes  at  length  grown  dim, 
But  God's  lamp  burns;  I  may  not  hear  the  psalm 

Of  rescue  sweet,  but  it  will  rise  to  Him. 


jo 


Sbow  lie  tbe  jfatber. 


Show!      Can  He  show 

To  mortal  eye 
What  mortal  eye  was  never  made  to  see? 
Can  man  the  Father  of  eternity 
By  vision  know  ? 

Crimson  and  gold 
Of  early  dawn, 
Topaz  and  emerald  and  amethyst. 
In  radiant  flashes  through  the  sunset  mist, 

He  can  unfold: 

The  stars  of  snow. 
The  pearls  of  dew, 
Chalice  of  flower,  cedar  of  Lebanon, 
Mountain  of  lightning-riven  rock  whereon 

The  sun-rays  glow: 

In  time  of  spring, 
A  dainty  shred 
Of  sky,  wrought  deftly  for  the  blue-bird  s  vest, 
A  gleam  of  light  where  orioles  make  their  nest. 

And  sit  and  sing: 


SHOW  US  THE   FATHER. 

Love's  angel  face, 
The  tender-eyed 
And  delicate,  lit  with  the  sweet  soft  rays 
Of  mother-fondness,  all  life's  weary  days; 

God's  gift  of  grace: 

These  patiently 
He  showeth  us. 
What  more?  For  that  wild  prayer:  "Show  me,"  He 
The  daring  seer,  in  the  rock-cleft  hid  :  [chid 

"Thou  canst  not  see."' 

Yet  mystery, — 

Listen,  O  heart! — 
"Not  know  Me  and  so  long  hast  with  Me  been  ? 
He  that  hath  seen  Me  hath  the  Father  seen." 
Now  dost  thou  see, 

That  Christ  hath  trod, 
With  feet  of  love, 
Wearily,  our  sad  way  on  earth,  that  He 
By  the  dread  sacrifice  of  Calvary, 

Might  show  us  God! 


;-' 


psalm  xxiii. 

Jehovah  is  my  Shepherd,  I 

Shall  never  want,  for  He 
In  His  green  pastures  makes  me  lie, 
And  His  calm  restful  waters  by, 

Is  ever  leading  me. 

My  soul  restored  and  rightly  led, 

What  harm  can  me  betide  ? 
Though  the  death-shadowed  vale  I  tread, 
Yet  there  no  evil  will  I  dread, 

Close  by,  my  heavenly  Guide. 

Thy  rod  and  staff  they  comfort  me, 

My  table  Thou  hast  spread, 
Where  all  mine  enemies  can  see; 
With  oil  of  sweetest  fragraney, 

Thou  dost  anoint  my  head. 

My  cup  runs  over;  goodness,  Lord, 

And  mercy  follow  me 
My  life  long,  at  Thy  gracious  word, 
And  ever  will  Thy  house  afford 

A  dwelling  place  to  me. 


3; 


pilgrim  Bom, 

Wayfarers  in  the  wilderness, 
By  morn,  and  noon,  and  even, 

Day  after  day,  we  journey  on 
With  weary  feet  towards  heaven. 

By  day  the  cloud  before  us  goes, 

By  night  the  cloud  of  fire, 
To  guide  us  o'er  the  trackless  waste, 

To  Canaan  ever  nigher. 

Each  morning  find  we,  as  He  said, 

The  dew  of  daily  manna: 
And  ever  when  a  foe  appears, 

Confronts  him  Christ  our  Banner. 

The  sea  was  riven  for  our  feet, 

And  so  will  be  the  river: 
And  by  the  King's  highway  brought  home, 

We'll  praise  His  Name  forever. 

O  land  above!  O  land  of  love! 

The  glory  shineth  o'er  thee; 
O  Christ  our  King,  in  mercy  bring 

Us  thither,  we  implore  Thee! 


Gbou  baat  beset  me. 

Strange  word  to  use  of  God,  that  word: 

Beset.     I  read  it  o'er  and  o'er 
As  David  wrote  it:  "Thou  hast,  Lord, 

Beset  me  both  behind,  before." 
M}r  heart  asks  if  I  dare  affirm 

Such  wonderful  proximity 
Of  Him  to  me;  I,  sinful  worm, 

He,  Father  of  eternity. 

Then  on  the  apostle's  page  I  read 

This  same  word,  in  his  counsel  given 
To  him  who  w^ould  at  length  succeed, 

In  running  for  the  prize  of  heaven: 
"Lay  every  weight  aside,  the  sin 

That  doth  so  easily  beset." 
As  if,  so  only  could  he  win, 

For  fettered  feet  ne'er  won  it  yet. 

What  means  the  word  ?    I  seem  to  see 

The  Isthmian  runner,  lithe  and  strong, 
Stripped  to  his  waist,  from  hindrance  free; 

There  lies,  laid  by,  his  garment  long — 
His  garment,  that  at  every  bound 

Would  take  his  shape,  and  tie  his  limb. 
Now  will  he  wrap  himself  around 

With  it,  then  run?    Madness  in  him  ! 


35 


THOU   HAST  BESET   ME. 

Like  that  same  garment  is  some  sin 

Cleaving  to  me,  my  fateful  foe 
Its  deadly  power  of  hindrance  in, 

Its  power  to  trip  and  lav  me  low, 
At  every  step  my  shape  to  take, 

Tangle  and  hold  my  stumbling  feet, 
Purpose  and  effort  thus  to  break, 

And  wrap  me  like  a  winding-sheet. 

That  means  the  word;  but  can  it  be 

That  close  as  that  God's  life  to  mine 
Clings,  ever  thus  enfolding  me 

Not  hindrance  with,  but  help  divine  ? 
So  David  sang  :  '  'Behind,  before 

Thou  hast  beset  me,  and  Thy  hand 
Is  laid  upon  me."    Could  I  more 

Ask  or  receive?    So,  Lord,  I  stand. 


,o 


Ebis  is  the  rest  wberevvttb  £e  mag  cause  tbe 
weary:  to  rest. 

Oft,  like  the  Psalmist,  do  we  cry. 
Oh  that  a  dove's  swift  wings  had  I. 
Where  evil  could  no  more  molest, 
I'd  fly  away  and  be  at  rest. 

But  what  if,  with  a  stronger  wing, 
Evil  were  ever  following? 
And  what  if  pain  and  grief  and  care 
Should  haunt  and  hurt  me  even  there? 

What  but  the  grave  can  give  release! 
The  wicked  there  from  troubling  cease, 
Its  quietness  is  manifest, 
And  there  the  weary  are  at  rest. 

Can  rest  no  other  where  be  found  ? 
Mine  ear  hath  caught  a  winsome  sound  : 
1  'O  heavy-laden  come  to  Me, 
And  I  will  give  rest  unto  thee." 

1  know  the  voice  of  Him  I  love, — 
The  Friend  all  other  friends  above, — 
I  come  to  Him;  so  ends  my  quest. 
Return,  my  soul,  unto  thy  rest! 


THIS  IS  THE  REST  WHEREWITH  YE  MAY  CAUSE 
THE  WEARY  TO  REST. 

Didst  Thou  not  make  me  for  Thine  own, 

Light  in  Thy  light  to  see  alone, 

And  restless  evermore  to  be, 

Till  I  should  find  my  rest  in  Thee! 

Thine  easy  yoke,  O  Christ.  I  take, 
Tlryself  my  true  Yokefellow  make. 
I  ask  no  more;  supremely  blest, 
Mine  is  at  length  the  perfect  rest. 

My  home,  my  hope,  my  heart  above, 
Light,  life,  and  rest  to  me  Thy  love, 
What  more  than  this,  in  Thee  to  live, 
Have  I  to  ask,  hast  Thou  to  give! 


^ 


Cbg  lUill  be  Done. 

Thy  will  be  done!  mean  we  His  will, 

Whoso  awful  power  could  by  a  word 
With  light  the  void  primeval  fill  ? 

Whose  voice  things  uncreated  heard, 
And  hearing,  into  being  sprang 

Out  of  the  chaos  wild  and  dim, 
"Till  o'er  His  work  all  perfect,  rang 

The  jubilant  angelic  hymn? 

Who  can  His  ootent  will  resist. 

Or  even  ask,  "What  doest  Thou?'' 
Who  can  compel  Him  to  desist 

From  plan  of  His,  or  show  Him  how 
To  do  His  work!     Is  any  higher  ? 

Will  any  dare  to  claim  His  seat 
Whose  voice  divides  the  flames  of  tire. 

The  hurricane  beneath  His  feet? 

Thy  will  be  done!     Or  do  we  mean 

His  will,  who  silent  because  strong, 
Amid  all  things,  seen  or  unseen, 

Through  centuries  andr  ages  long. 
Carries  His  purpose  calmly  through, 

Summer  and  winter,  night  and  day, 
A  sparrow  or  a  realm  onto, 

And  in  His  own  self-chosen  way. 


THY  WILL   BE   DONE. 

Then,  with  a  paralyzing  chill, 

Returns  on  us  the  stern  demand  : 
Could  any  e'er  defeat  His  will, 

Or  safely  mock  at  His  command  ? 
His  will,  Who  sees  and  makes  the  end, 

To  Whom  the  ages  are  as  hours, 
Whose  strength  omnipotent  can  bend 

Or  break,  at  will,  all  feebler  powers! 

Nay,  but  the  blessed  prayer  we  pray, 

As  taught  it  Christ  the  Incarnate  Son, 
And  from  our  hearts  all  trustful,  say: 

Our  Father,  may  Thy  will  be  done! 
Father!  the  word  its  all  doth  mean: 

Our  Father!  none  are  fatherless; 
True  Father  hath  He  ever  been, 

True  to  provide,  defend,  and  bless. 

A.  m  I  when  knew  men  that  they  might  say 

'•Our  Father,"  when  to  God  they  came, 
'Till  Jesus  taught  them  how  to  pray, 

And  put  upon  their  lips  His  name! 
Not  "Maker,"  "Ruler,"'  do  we  cry, 

Not  Holy,  Awful.  Mighty  One, 
But  "Father,"  loving,  tender,  nigh, 

"Our  Father,"  may  Thy  will  be  done! 


(frofc'fi  busbanfrtv. 


I  asked  a  husbandman:     Did  God  set  thee 
To  make  the  ground,  that  lies  beneath  thy  feet? 

When  time  had  branched  out  from  eternity. 
Didst  thou  in  motion  set  the  forces  meet 

For  such  a  work, — flood,  flame  and  glacial  cold, 

To  melt  and  grind  the  rock  to  fertile  mold? 

Or  did  He  bid  thee  make  the  tiny  seed, — 
Its  outer  coat  of  mail,  its  compact  store 

( )f  sustenance  against  its  time  of  need. 
And  deep  within,  behind  its  double  door, 

The  vital  germ,  that  would  need  none  to  show 

To  it  the  way  to  live,  to  spring,  to  grow? 

Or  did  He  wait  for  thee  to  call  the  sun 
To  take  his  place  in  yonder  azure  heaven. 

And  pour  life  from  his  depth  of  life  upon 
The  eager  earth  each  day.  from  morn  till  even  ? 

Art  thou  the  father  of  the  rain  ?    Dost  know 

The  loom  that  weaves  the  fabric  of  the  snow? 


god's  husbandry. 

Or  doth  the  Maker  of  the  earth,  the  rain, 
The  sun,  the  seed,  only  depend  on  thee 

To  sow  His  seed  upon  His  spring-tide  plain, 
Which  He  made  rich  in  its  fertility, 

And  then  to  leave  it.  till,  beneath  His  cave, 

It  grow  and  ripen  in  a  harvest  fair? 

Toiler  for  God,  doth  not  this  clearly  tell 
What  of  thy  love  His  bounteous  love  doth  ask: 

No  more,  no  less,  than  thou  canst  do  full  well, 
And,  doing,  share  with  God  the  pleasant  task. 

God's  seed  sow  in  God's  ground,  and  leave  it  there; 

Not  thine,  but  His,  to  make  it  spring  and  bear. 


Goo<>=b\>e. 


Who  stays  to  think  that  our  "good-bye*' 
At  first,  was  not  a  wish,  but  prayer: 

A  thought  of  help  forever  nigh, 

And  "God  be  with  you"  everywhere! 

'Not  as  the  world  doth  give,"  said  He, — 
Who  of  all  men  on  earth  was  true, — 

To  His  disciples  tenderly, 

"Give  I  My  parting  word  to  you." 

Then  said  He,  "Peace  with  you  I  leave, 
My  peace,  O  friends!  to  you  I  give, 

Let  not  your  hearts  be  sad — believe! 
They  that  believe  in  Me  shall  live." 

Oh  that  upon  our  hearts  might  He 
Breathe  evermore  that  selfsame  word! 

And  oli  that  our  "good-bye"  might  be 
Prayer  for  the  presence  of  our  Lord! 

Could  clearer,  surer  pledge  be  given  ? 

Gould  even  He  a  better  send 
Than  that  with  which  He  went  to  heaven 

"Lo.  I  am  with  vou  to  the  end  ?" 


^ 


GOOD-BYE. 

What  need  we  but  with  trustful  heart 
Cling  to  His  word  of  hope  and  cheer 

And  say,  "with  me  Thou  always  art, 
Therefore  no  evil  will  I  fear!  " 

Then,  as  along  these  earthly  ways, 
With  weary  feet  we  go  and  come, 

Long  winter  nights,  long  summer  days. 
But  every  footfall  nearer  home  ; 

'Not  as  the  world,"  our  lips  shall  say  : 
Peace  and  good-bye;  whene'er  we  part, 

Until  we  reach,  some  coining  day, 
The  blessing  of  the  pure  in  heart. 


Eventf&e. 


Shadows  lengthen,  day  declines; 

Over  all  the  grassy  lea 
Long  and  longer-growing  lines 

Creep  from  every  rock  and  tree. 

From  the  yellow  harvest-field 
Slowly  comes  the  creaking  wain 

Laden  with  the  golden  yield. 
Sheaf  on  sheaf  of  ripened  grain. 

Darkness  deepens  now,  and  soon, 
In  her  spotless  apron  white, 

Will  there  stand  the  damsel  moon, 
Hand-maid  of  the  coming  night. 

From  the  meadow  slowly  come, 
Through  the  fields  of  purple  clover, 

Lowing  herds  reluctant,  home, 
Cropping  as  they  cross  them  over. 


EVENTIDE. 

As  if  curtains  were  unbound 
By  the  angels,  and  let  fall 

All  the  noisy  world  around, 
Steals  the  quiet  over  all. 

Here  and  there  the  boldest  stars 
Look  out  from  the  upper  land, 

On  the  gate,  upon  whose  bars 
Little  children  climb  and  stand ; 

Waiting,  watching  eagerly, 
Rosy  faces,  restless  feet, 

Who  will  be  the  first  to  see, 
First  to  give  the  welcome  sweet. 

Symbol  of  another  gate— 
We  will  reach  it  by  and  by, — 

And  another  troop  who  wait 
For  us,  in  the  home  on  high. 


Gbe  gate  of  beaven. 


Weary  and  worn  tlie  fugitive  lay  down 
And  fell  asleep  upon  the  stony  ground; 

No  friend  at  hand,  afar  from  tent  or  town, 
Only  the  stars  above,  darkness  around. 

And  then  he  dreamed  :  a  ladder  bright  and  high 
Sprung  from  the  ground,  his  hard  unyielding  bed. 

Whose  shining  top  leaned  firmly  on  the  sky. 
Amid  the  stars  that  clustered  o'er  Ids  head. 

Angels  were  going  up  and  down  its  bars  : 
Above  it  stood  the  Lord,  in  light  so  fair. 

That  faint  and  fainter  grew  the  ruddy  Btars, 
An(]  soft  sweet  radiance  tilled  the  midnight  air. 

'T  am  the  Lord,  thy  fathers'  God:"  the  sound 

Dropped  down  the  air  with  music  rarely  sweet  : 

'I  am  the  Lord,  and  on  this  self-same  ground, 
Shall  tread,  one  day,  thy  glad  returning  feel. 


THE   GATE   OF   HEAVEN. 

Never,  in  all  the  years  of  toil  before 
This  lonely  sleeper  in  that  rugged  place. 

Which  yet,  in  truth,  to  him  was  heaven's  own  door 
Did  he  forget  that  sight  and  sound  of  grace. 

And  all  came  true.     So  will  it  ever  be, 
O  heart  of  faith,  alone,  beset  with  fears, 

The  gate  of  heaven  is  always  near  to  thee; 
God  with  thee  in  thy  life  of  toil  and  tears. 

At  last,  thou  wilt  come  home  to  perfect  rest  ; 

Thou  who  hast  chosen  God,  Who  first  chose  thee 
Thy  place,  within  the  Father's  house;  thy  blest 

Inheritance,  life,  love,  eternally. 


/BM;,pab. 


Mizpali  !  God  be  the  Watcher 

Whene'er  our  ways  divide, 
And  thine  go  to  the  one  hand, 

Mine  to  the  other  side. 
And  yet,  though  far  asunder 

Thy  way  and  mine  may  be, 
God,  in  His  sleepless  mercy, 

Keep  watch  'twixt  thee  and  me. 

Whatever  may  befall  thee. 

In  sunshine  or  in  rain  ; 
In  gladness  or  in  Badness, 

In  pleasure  or  in  pain  ; 
By  day  God's  band  defend  tlu-e, 

By  night  His  angels  make 
Their  camp  around  thy  dwelling, 

Until  the  morning  break. 


4Y 


MIZPAH. 

When  thou  art  faint  and  weary, 

When  thou  hast  gone  astray, 
The  hand  of  the  Good  Shepherd 

Restore  thee  to  the  way. 
Whatever  cross  thou  bearest, 

God  make  it  to  bear  thee  ; 
The  Lord,  with  thee  forever, 

Thy  Cheer  and  Comfort  be. 

If  He  shall  be  thy  Watcher, 

And  in  His  hand  keep  thine. 
No  evil  can  befall  thee, 

The  loved  of  Love  divine. 
And  when  the  journey's  over, 

Then,  safe  at  home,  we'll  say, 
'T  was  a  good  watchword  :  Mizpah 

For  pilgrims  in  the  way. 


Bble  to  save. 


By  Jacob's  ancient  well 

Sat  Jesus,  long  ago; 
The  water-bearer  heard  Him  tell 

Where  living  waters  flow. 

The  beggar,  day  by  day, 

Sat  in  a  hopeless  night, 
Until  the  Master  passed  that  way 

And  said:  "Receive  thy  sight!" 

The  Gentile  mother  craved 

A  crumb  of  healing  power; 
The  child  for  whom  she  prayed,  was  saved 

That  very  self-same  hour. 

Beside  Bethesda's  pool, 

He  to  the  palsied  said, — 
Before  he  prayed  to  be  made  whole  : — 
"Rise,  and  take  up  thy  bed!  " 

'O  Lord,  remember  me," 

The  dying  robber  cries: — 
'This  day,"  saith  Jesus,  thou  shalt  be 

With  Me  in  Paradise.'' 


Cro00inci  tbe  IRivev. 


The  river  ran  with  rush  and  roar 

Of  freshet-flood,  athwart  the  way 
Of  Israel,  though  the  other  shore 
Was  Canaan  ;  in  its  beauty  lay 
The  land  of  promise,  fair  and  bright, 
And  winsome  to  their  eager  sight. 

At  length  their  weary  feet  haATe  come 

To  Jordan's  side;  and,  pausing  there, 
Beyond  the  river  lies  the  home 
Long  promised,  palm-decked,  fertile,  fair 
How  shall  they  cross  to  reach  it  ?    Lo  ! 
The  heavenly  word  is:  "Forward  go  !" 

Into  the  water?     But  they  shrink 

From  venturing  the  rushing  flood. 
Not  here,  as  on  the  Red  Sea's  brink. 
Stands  Moses  with  his  outstretched  rod. 
Yet  they,  like  others  long  ago, 
Shall  find  God  in  the  overflow. 


CROSSING  THE   RIVER. 

So  they  go  forward,  till  the  shore 

The  priests  have  reached,  that  sunbright  morn. 
With  steps  unfaltering,  before 
Their  eyes  the  holy  ark  is  borne  ; 
The  mercy-seat,  the  cherubim. 
Come  to  the  water's  very  brim. 

But  when  the  feet  of  them  that  bare 

The  ark  of  God  stepped  in  the  wave. 
The  water  shrunk  away,  and  there 
A  broad  and  open  pathway  gave. 
And  they  may  sing,  as  on  they  tread. 
'The  waters  saw  Thee,  Lord,  and  rled." 

So  will  God  help.     Across  our  way 

May  run  a  river  wide  and  deep. 
And  we  may  stand,  and  shrink,  and  pray, 
May  tremble,  hesitate,  and  weep, 
As  if  it  never  could  be  crossed. 
And  we  forsaken  are,  and  lost. 

Sometimes  it  may  be  that  His  love 
Will  cleave  the  floo  I  before  our  eyes. 

Ami  He  will  from  our  way  remove 
The  hindrance  which  our  courage  tries; 

And  then,  upon  tie'  other  shore. 
Timbrel  and  song  may  Him  adore. 


CROSSING   THE  RIVER. 

And  sometimes,  there  will  be  the  word, 

His  only  answer:  "Forward  go  !'' 
With  us  forever  is  the  Lord  ; 
The  path  of  life  His  love  will  show; 
Jesus  before  us,  at  our  side, 
Why  should  we  fear  the  swollen  tide  ? 


©ut  of  Galilee. 


Shall  Christ  come  out  of  Galilee? 

The  heart  of  sin  self-blinded  saith  ; 
The  Christ  of  ancient  prophecy; — 

Can  good  come  out  of  Nazareth? 
Must  He  not  be  of  nobler  line. 

And  bearing  in  Hi-;  very  face 
The  grandeur  of  a  strength  divine, 

Onmarred  by  sorrow's  lightest  trace? 

No  prophet  is  from  Galilee  : 

This  Man.  Who  comes  from  Nazareth. 
This  lowly  One, — how  can  it  be 

That  He  is  Lord  of  life  and  death  ? 
So  they  sat  on  in  Moses'  seat. 

In  scornful  unbelief  and  pride, 
And  chose,  themselves  of  life  to  cheat, 

And  in  their  dreary  darkness  died. 

Arid  they  knew  not  that  God  had  given 

His  Son,  the  Christ  for  men  to  be  . 
Sent  first  to  Bethlehem  from  heaven, 

Sent  afterward,  to  Galilee, 
In  humble  Nazareth  to  share, 

By  mortal  poverty  and  woe. 
By  toil  and  tears,  by  pain  and  care, 

Our  struggle  in  the  world  below. 


OUT  OF  GALILEE. 

What  if,  to  leave  on  labor  sore 

His  Father's  benediction  sweet, 
He  passed  beneath  the  hamlet  door 

And  came  and  went  with  weary  feet. 
That  so  ou  toilsome  life  might  come, 

On  pillow  hard,  on  scanty  fare, 
On  daily  work,  on  darkened  home, 

Calm  peace  of  heart,  contentment  rare  ! 

80  did  the  Elder  Brother  know,— 

The  Brother  for  adversity, — 
How  bitter  is  our  cup  of  woe. 

How  sick  and  sore  our  hearts  can  be; 
For  He  hath  shared  the  very  same, 

Lived  in  our  life  and  died  our  death; 
On  His  dear  heart  the  burden  came, 

And  He  lived  once  in  Nazareth. 

We  kneel  and  kiss  His  garment's  hem 

Who  to  our  lot  surrenderetli  ; 
The  Virgin's  Son  of  Bethlehem, 

The  patient  Man  of  Nazareth. 
His  feet  the  path  we  tread,  have  trod 

In  linos  of  light  to  show  the  way. 
The  way  through  earth  to  heaven  and  God. 

Through  darkness  to  eternal  day. 


tbe  fcbree  pillars. 

'Afjiareve.     Unevde.     Kd/^ov. 
Along  the  stadium,  of  old, 

In  which  the  Grecian  runner  ran, 
Stood,  each  with  an  inscription  bold, 

Three  pillars,  seen  of  every  man. 

The  first,— where  stretched  the  slender  line 
Athwart  the  eager  athlete's  breast, 

Which  fell,  to  give  to  him  the  sign 
To  start,  had  on  it :    Do  your  best! 

The  next, — that  at  the  half-way  curve, 
A  single  step  he  might  not  waste, 

Nor  from  the  closest  turning  swerve, — 
Stood,  with  the  word  of  warning  :    Haste! 

The  third, — abreast  the  goal,  whose  prize 
His  outstretched  hand  would  touching,  earn 

With  this  glad  token  met  his  eyes, 
And  greeted  him  the  victor  :     Turn! 


5- 


THE  THREE    PIEEAKS. 

O  runner,  whatsoever  place 
Thou  holdest  in  the  heavenly  line, 

Mark  well  these  words,  and  run  the  race 
So  as  to  win  the  prize  divine. 

A  crown  corruptible  was  all 

They,  at  the  best,  could  e'er  attain  ; 

Whilst  thou  obedient  to  the  call 
Of  God,  a  crown  of  life  canst  gain. 


JSebolfc!  11  s?tauD  at  tbc  fcoor  anD  fcnocfc. 


Miracle  of  heavenly  kindness, 

Love  and  pity  !  can  it  be  ! 
Jesus  waiting  !  in  my  blindness, 

Never  saw  I  it  was  He 
Knocking  at  my  door,  until 
I  should  answer  ;  knocking  still ! 

And  yet.  it  hath  seemed  so  often 
It  could  be  no  human  hand. 

Heart  of  stone  !  that  did  not  soften, 
Suffered  Him  without  to  stand  ; 

Did  not  rise  and  let  Him  in. 

Foolish,  wretched  heart  of  sin  ! 

Woe  is  me  for  such  behaviour  ; 

What,  if  He  had  turned  away  ! 
Oh,  but  enter,  patient  Saviour. 

Enter  in  this  very  day  ; 
I  will  sit  at  Thy  dear  feet 
Tears  of  love  Thy  love  will  greet ! 


me  wrestle. 


When  will  this  weary  strife  be  ended ! 

Wrestling  with  sin, 
As  if  by  help  divine  defended, 
By  heavenly  allies  close  attended, 

Sometimes  I  win. 

Bat  often,  ah  how  often,  failing, 

Swept  from  my  feet, 
My  utmost  effort  unavailing, 
Nought  left  me  but  a  bitter  wailing, 

My  fall  to  greet. 

As  if  my  foe,  with  malice  cruel, 

"Would  wrench  from  me 
My  hope,  my  precious  heavenly  jewel, 
And  gain  in  this  unequal  duel, 

The  mastery. 

Were  it  my  strength  alone,  oh  surely 

Then  I  should  fall 
Matched  against  power  unseen  so  poorly 
Keeping  my  hold  so  insecurely, 

I  should  lose  all. 

0  Jesus,  Thou  hast  known  temptation, 

My  Champion  ! 
Now,  while  in  this  imperilled  station 

1  stand,  Lord  be  Thou  my  Salvation. 

Till  life  is  won  ! 


60 


TLcrfr,  remember  me ! 


Saviour  gentle,  Saviour  lowly, 
Meek  and  quiet  Lamb  of  God, 

Thou,  with  patience  pure  and  holy, 
Sorrow's  dreary  way  hast  trod  : 

By  thy  cross  of  agony, 

Lord  of  love,  remember  me  ! 

Thou  didst  pray  in  bitter  anguish, 

Prostrate  in  Gethsemane  ; 
Thou  upon  the  cross  didst  languish  ; 

Lord  of  love,  remember  me  ! 
By  Thy  cross  of  agony, 
Lord  of  love,  remember  me  ! 

Saviour  mighty,  Saviour  glorious, 
Thou  art  crowned  with  thorns  no  more 

Lord  and  Leader,  all -victorious, 
Heaven  and  earth  Thy  Name  adore 

By  Thy  crown  of  victory, 

Lord  of  life,  remember  me  ! 

Thine  the  kingdom  is  forever. 

Thine  all  might  and  majesty. 
Death,  again,  can  hurt  Thee,  never  ! 

Lord  of  life,  remember  me! 
By  Thy  crown  of  victory. 
Lord  of  life,  remember  me  ! 


61 


JForecjleams. 


What  we  call  memory, 
Is  really  but  the  power  of  inward  vision, 
A  bright  fore-gleaming  of  the  life  elysian, 

Wherein,  at  will  set  free 
From  eveiy  accident  of  time  and  place, 
What  we  have  had  we  keep,  by  God's  dear  grace. 

So,  to  us  it  may  come, 
That  all  God's  gifts  irrevocable  are  ; 
Once  to  have  had  the  vision  bright  and  fair, 

That  came  in  the  dear  home 
Of  love  on  earth,  which  He  to  us  has  given, 
Is  evermore  to  have  it,  even  in  heaven. 

And  without  eyes  we  see ; 
For  He  has  given  us  image-making  power, 
By  which  we  sit  alone  some  quiet  hour, 

And  fashion  vividly 
What  we  have  never  seen  with  mortal  eyes, 
And  will  not  see  till  we  reach  Paradise. 


62 


FOREGLEAMS. 

Thank  God.  time  cannot  stay! 
A  line  between  our  future  and  our  past, 
Nothing  is  there  that  flits  along  so  fast. 

It  ever  slips  away 
Just  as  we  touch  it  ;  life  and  love  endure. 
Heedless  of  time  ;  their  hold,  in  Christ,  is  sure. 

Thus  past  and  future  both 
The  real  present  are  to  us,  and  we. 
Outside  of  time,  live  in  eternity  . 

We  will  be  nothing  loth 
Ere  long,  to  hear  the  mighty  angel  say  : 
There  shall  be  time  no  longer :  then  'that  day.' 

Fast  locked  in  sleep  we  dream. 
And  then,  fair  face  we  see,  sweet  voice  we  hear. 
Dear  hand  we  touch,  no  longer  gone,  bur  near  ; 

Just  as  of  old  they  seem. 
Is  it  unreal,  or  reality  ? 
For  without  mortal  sense,  we  hear,  touch,  see. 

Sense  is  the  implement 
And  not  the  power  ;  well  used,  the  two  seem  one, 
But  when  the  work  of  mortal  sense  is  done, 

We  will  be  well  content 
With  sense  immortal,  in  God's  life  to  be  ; 
Whereof  even  now  we  have  the  prophecy. 

63 


jface  to  jfacc. 


Vision,  but  not  by  mortal  eye  ! 

Doth  that  seem  strange? 
And  yet  beneath  the  broad  blue  sky 
Above  our  heads,  a  bird  can  fly 

Oat  of  our  range. 

Step  after  step  a  flower  we  crush 

In  summer  days, 
So  small  we  do  not  see  the  blush 
Upon  its  cheek,  its  ruddy  flush, 

Its  golden  rays. 

At  night  shines  out  star  alter  star 

Along  the  sky, 
But  myriads  beyond  them  far, 
Behind  the  silver-studded  bar, 

Unseen  do  lie. 

The  light  that  maketh  manifest 

To  mortal  eyes, 
Cannot  the  fairest  and  the  best 
Reveal  ;  so  much  we  see,  the  rest 

Behind  it  lies. 


FACE  T<>   PACE. 

To  the  wild  cry  :  <)  God  to  me 

Some  vision  give. 
Here  in  t\n<  mortal  lire  of  Thee  ! 
Lo  the  reply  :  Thon  canst  not  se 

My  fact  and  live  ! 

When  He  shall  rend  the  veil,  then  we, 

By  His  dear  love, — 
In  life's  transcendent  liberty, 
All  need  of  mortal  sense  will  be 

Set  far  above. 

Then  with  the  King  in  Paradise, 

Oh,  rarest  place  ! — 
We  with  our  own  in  glad  surprise 
Will  see.  not  with  dull  mortal  eyes, 

But  face  to  face. 


from  eartb  to  beavett. 


A  gift  from  out  the  heaven  above. 

Fair  as  an  angel  did  he  seem  ; 
And  so  to  our  exultant  love 

Came  true  its  boldest  brightest  dream. 

What  witchery  had  laid  its  power 
On  brain  and  heart!  — for  brighter  shone 

The  daylight,  fairer  was  each  flower, 
Home's  music  took  a  sweeter  tone. 

And  then, — one  woeful  summer  day, 
So  suddenly  the  light  grew  dim. 

And  life  grew  weary,  and  our  way 
Grew  desolate  for  want  of  him, 

Our  hearts  in  dreary  burial 

Went  with  him  underneath  the  sod  ; 
And  hope  and  joy  at  his  recall 

Had  died,  but  for  the  help  of  God. 

Our  youth  was  stalwart  then,  and  now 
Years,  '-ares  have  cut  their  monogram 

In  wrinkled  lines  on  us.  but  how 
('an  we  forget  our  folded  lamb. 


FROM   KARTH   TO   HEAVEN. 

The  treasure  bright,  and  rich,  ami  rare, 
He  brought  to  make  our  joy  complete, 

His  merry  lip,  his  golden  hair. 
Itis  dimpled  hand,  his  tiny  fe  it, 

Were  never  more  to  waste  or  change 
In  the  fierce  rush  of  earthly  years, 

Nor  he  to  grow  to  likeness  strange. 
And  we  be  left  to  sickening  fear-. 

Sheltered  and  saved  from  tempests  wild 
Of  ill,  lie  was  to  be  in  heaven 

Forever  more,  our  little  child; 

Unchanged,  save  fairer,  dearer,  even. 

E'en  here  the  same  ; — years  speed,  but  he 
The  same  sweet  child  is,  winsome,  fair, 

In  the  firm  hold  of  memory: 
E'en  here  the  same  ; — how  surely  there! 


•: 


Cbe  Groes  an&  tbe  Grown. 


Sleep  !  safely  folded  to  thy  rest, 
Till  the  day  break  and  shadows  flee, 

Above  us  all  supremely  blest, 
Safe  home  so  soon,  all  joy  to  thee  ! 

We  thought  to  take  thee  by  the  hand, 
And  lead  thee  up  the  shining  way 

That  compassetli  the  Eden  land, 
The  radiant  land  of  endless  day. 

Rut  Jesus  called  thee — and  thy  feet 
Ours  far  outran — and  went  above. 

Guarded  and  guided  by  the  sweet 
Companionship  of  heavenly  love. 

The  chrystal  signet  of  the  King 
Once  laid  upon  thy  forehead  fair. 

Through  weakness,  pain,  and  suffering, 
Untarnished  thou  didst  safely  bear. 

( Jurist's  little  soldier,  meek  ami  true. 
Thy  short  sharp  warfare  now  is  done  ; 

The  cross  is  borne  :  the  struggle  through 
And  now  the  golden  crown  is  won. 


a 


Cbe  £wo  Sentinels. 


I  know  where  on  a  hillside  grows 

A  dogwood  tree,  whose  snow-white  flowers, 
When  springtide  days  grow  long,  it  throws 

Down  on  the  grass  in  lavish  showers. 
Some  on  the  green  slope  lie,  amid 

The  clover  blooms  and  violets  fair, 
And  some  fall  only  to  be  hid 

Between  the  hillocks  mounded  there. 

And  there  beneath  the  dogwood  tree, 

Amid  the  mounds,  a  shaft  of  stone 
Bears  witness  that  these  hillocks  be 

The  place  where  love  has  laid  its  own. 
The  summer  flowers  were  not  yet  gone 

When  some  were  brought  like  garnered  sheaf ; 
'Till  the  day  break,"  the  legend  on 

The  stone,  stands  out  in  bold  relief. 


6g 


THE   TWO   SENTINELS. 

For  other  some,  around  the  stone, 

Beneath  which  they  were  brought  to  lie, 
The  autumn  winds  had  thickly  strewn 

The  leaves,  whose  time  had  come  to  die, 
For  some,  on  all  the  hillside  lay 

God's  snow,  like  wool,  above  the  land  ; 
But  summer  time,  or  winter  day. 

The  stone  doth  near  the  dogwood  stand. 

What  precious  things  beneath  the  stone 

Are  hidden  deep  from  mortal  eye. 
God  knoweth,  as  to  Him  is  known 

Where  wedges  of  the  red  gold  lie, 
Where,  in  the  sand,  its  secret  nest, 

The  bright-eyed  diamond  lies  and  sleeps, 
And  where  the  sea  folds  to  its  breast 

The  pearl,  and  so  the  treasure  keeps. 

There  lie  they  sleeping  quietly 

While  God  keeps  watch.      They  will  not  wake 
Until  the  shadows  flit  and  flee 

When  the  eternal  morn  shall  break. 
Angels  sit  by  them,  they  who  kept 

Unwearied  watch  in  that  lone  tomb, 
Where  Jesus  laid  His  head  and  slept 

A  quiet  sleep,  in  welcome  gloom. 


THE  TWO  SENTINELS. 

Nay,  but  the  silence  and  the  gloom! — 

And  thus  we  make  our  moan  of  woe  - 
Above,  the  gold -eyed  daisies  bloom. 

But  what  is  that  to  them  below  ? 
Well,  what  is  that  to  them  that  sleep 

In  perfect  rest,  with  God  o'erhead, 
While  strong  and  glorious  angels  keep 

A  faithful  watch  beside  their  bed? 

The  world  forgets  them  !     Be  it  so. 

What  is  the  world  ?    It  never  gave, 
It  cannot  take.     To  God  we  owe 

Life,  love,  here  and  beyond  the  grave. 
'I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth," 

Faith  cries  with  lip  of  ecstasy, 
And  unto  me  this  gift  He  giveth, 

That  in  my  flesh,  God  I  shall  see. 

Keep  watch  above  this  holy  dust 

O  tree  and  stone,  God's  sentinels  ! 
His  angels  share  the  sacred  trust, 

He  with  His  own  beloved  dwells. 
Stand  steadfastly  before  the  door 

Until  He  come,  and  find  you  their, 
And  then,  your  faithful  service  o'er, 

The  liberty  of  glorv  share. 


fin  tbe  sarfcen  a  new  sepiucbre. 


What  place  more  strange  could  men  have  found 
Wherein  to  plant  the  cross,  than  where 

The  flowers  in  clusters  hid  the  ground, 
And  filled  with  fragrance  all  the  air  ? 

Did  ever  drearier  shadow  fall 
Athwart  the  crimson  and  the  gold, 

Than  when  in  its  gaunt  arms  the  tall 
Grim  cross  the  dying  Christ  did  hold  ? 

A  garden  near  the  cross,  and  there 
A  sepulchre  !     Light  barred  with  gloom  | 

Amid  the  glory  rare  and  fair 

Of  bloom  and  beauty,  there  a  tomb  ! 

But  never  yet  had  weary  feet 
Of  sorrow,  come  with  muffled  tread, 

Thither,  to  crush  the  blossoms  sweet, 
As  they  brought  in  their  loved  and  dead. 


IX   THE   GARDEN   A   NEW  SEPULCHRE. 

Nor  would  they,  till  they  came  to  bring, 
With  tear  and  moan  and  smothered  wail, 

The  body  of  the  murdered  King. 

Beneath  the  paschal  moonlight  pale. 

'Twas  meet  that  in  a  garden  bright 

With  blooms,  the  Champion's  tomb  should  be 
To  >leep  away  the  short  still  night. 

And  wake  in  immortality. 

And  meet  for  Him  to  wake  'mid  flowers, 
When  angels  rolled  the  stone  away. 

Where  dew-drops,  fallen  in  lavish  showers. 
Tike  lustrous  jewels  paved  His  way. 

"tts  well  for  weary  head  to  sleep 
On  the  same  pillow  where  He  lay, 

While  heaven  its  vigil  sure  doth  keep, 
And  ere  long  is  the  break  of  day. 

And  love  may  make  a  garden  round 
The  place  where  sleep  its  own  and  His  . 

Angel-  patrol  the  holy  ground. 
And  Christ  the  Resurrection  is. 


73 


St  tbe  /UMle^Stone. 


A  moment  at  the  mile-stone 

Stay,  thou  of  weary  feet ; 
The  journey  has  been  toilsome. 

And  rest  is  ever  sweet. 
Fresh  purpose  it  may  give  thee, 

This  moment  of  delay. 
And  help  thee  meet  with  courage 

The  peril  of  the  way. 

Thou  surely  art  no  stranger 

To  toil  and  pain  aud  tears. 
Thy  feet  are  bruised  and  bleeding, 

Thy  heart  is  sick  with  fears. 
Where  are  the  dear  companions 

Who  started  out  with  thee, 
With  lips  so  full  of  music, 

Ami  faces  bright  with  glee? 


AT   THE   MILE-STONE. 

Bow  silent  thou  art  standing, 

And  leaning  on  the  stone  ! 
Art  thinking  how  they  left  thee 

To  journey  on  alone  ? — 
How  bitter  was  the  parting 

When  they  >aid:  "Let  me  go," 
And  they  went  with  the  angels. 

And  thou, — alone,  below. 

How  nearly  hadst  thou  fallen 

When  sorrow  smote  thee  sore, 
And  horrible  temptation 

Came  to  thee  o'er  and  o"er  ! 
'Where  is  thy  God?*'  it  mocked  thee 

With  wild  and  cruel  cry  ; 
"Where  is  my  God?"  thy  heart  said, 

In  woefullest  reply. 

Xay.  lean  upon  the  mile-stone, 

And  yet  a  moment  stay, 
And  answer  how  thou  earnest 

Through  that  dark  cloudy  day. 
The  dreary  waste  was  track!* 

Thy  heart  was  chilled  with  fear, 
Alone,  overwhelmed,  hope  dying, — 

Vet.  pilgrim,  thou  art  here. 


AT   THE  MILE-STONE. 

Did  no  one  hear  thee  saying: 

"Twere  better  far  to  die"? 
In  that  thine  utter  peril 

Was  there  no  Helper  nigh  ? 
No  mortal  eye  could  see  Him, 

No  sound  fell  on  thine  ear. 
Yet  Some  One  heard  and  helped  thee, 

For,  pilgrim,  thou  art  here. 

Where  went  they  who  went  from  thee 

To  sleep  beneath  the  sod  ? 
Thou  knowest.     They  went  swiftly 

And  surely  home  to  God. 
That  cost  the  awful  ransom 

Christ  gave  on  Calvary: 
Partaker  of  Christ's  sufferings 

Wilt  thou  refuse  to  be  ? 

For  them  the  Father's  mansion 

Has  opened  wide  its  door, 
No  sin,  no  pain,  no  sorrow, 

No  tears  forevermore. 
Joy  for  them,  safely  gathered  ! 

And  there  they  wait  for  thee, 
Where  years  are  never  counted 

In  love's  eternity. 


76 


Jfatnt  v?et  flMivsuiiui. 


Wayworn  pilgrim,  weak  and  weary, 

Burdened  sore  with  care  and  sorrow, 
Stumbling-  in  the  darkness  dreary, 

Dreading  what  may  come  to-morrow  : 

Listen  thou  !  hear  Jesus  say  : 
"Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway  !  " 

Is  the  heart  within  thee  sinking 

At  the  word  to  grief  which  calls  thee? 
Is  the  weak  flesh  trembling,  shrinking 
From  the  cross  whose  pain  appals  thee: 

Hear  the  promise  made  to  thee: 
"As  thy  day  thy  strength  shall  be  !  " 

Courage  !  Christ  will  fail  thee  never  : 
Wherefore  shouldst  thou  faint  or  falter 

Yesterday,  to-day,  forever, 
He  the  same  is  ;  what  can  alter 
Heart  of  love  or  faithful  word. 
In  thy  loving,  living  Lord. 

Though  the  night  should, grimly  darken. 

And  the  wind  go  shrieking  by  thee. 
Through  the  tempest  only  hearken 
To  the  voice  of  Jesus  nigh  thee — 

Saying  in  the  dreadful  shade: 
"It  is  I,  be  not  afraid.'' 


tfor  a  season. 


Now  ;  for  a  season  :  only  now, — 
O  weary,  heavy-laden  heart — 
And  only  for  a  season,  thou 
Through  manifold  temptations  art 
In  heaviness  ;  erelong  the  day 
Will  break,  the  shadows  flee  away 

O  desolate,  thou  hast  forgot 

The  helpful  answer  of  thy  Lord  : 
Now.  what  I  do  thou  knowest  not. 
But  thou  shalt  know  it  afterward. 
Hereafter,  thy  glad  eyes  shall  see 
This  was  the  wav  of  life  for  thee. 


78 


FOR   A  SEASON. 

Rest  on  His  word  :  His  word  is  true, 

Said  He  not  plainly,  long  ago  : 
1  know  the  thoughts  I  think  toward  you, 
Peace,  and  not  evil  :  even  so. 
He  giveth  an  expected  end. 
Thy  faltering  footsteps  heavenward  tend. 

At  present,  doth  the  chastening  yield 

No  joy  to  thee,  but  only  pain  ; 
Plough,  harrow,  sun.  and  storm  the  tield 
Go  over  ;  but  the  golden  grain 
At  harvest-time  the  reapers  bring, 
And  jocund  is  the  song  they  sing. 

Now,  is  but  for  a  little  while, 

But,  afterward,  eternity. 
Thy  home. —  doth  it  not  make  thee  smile,— 
Nearer,  each  step,  He  bringeth  thee  ; 
Ere  long  thy  feet  will  reach  the  door, 
Then,  life  and  love  for  evermore. 


1ft  neefr  be. 


If  need  be  !     That  is  known  to  Him 

Who  sits  above 
The  glory- vested  cherubim  ; 

For  Whom  and  by  Whom  are  all  tilings; 
The  mystery  is  deep  and  dim 
To  me  ;  not  to  the  King  of  kings 
Who  reigns  in  Love. 

Who  is  to  know  whether  need  be? 

Not  I,  not  I  ! 
I,  in  the  darkness,  cannot  see 

Whither  my  feet  are  going,  or 
What  dangers  there  may  lurk  for  me, 
What  deadly  foes  my  fare  before 
In  ambush  lie. 


IP    NEED    BE. 

With  sight  so  dim,  and  wit  so  small. 

How  could  I  know 
More  than  on  Him,  my  Lord,  to  call  : — 
Teac'n  me  Thy  way,  keep  close  beside. 
And  hold  me.  lest  I  trip  and  fall ; 
Easy  for  steps  of  mine  to  slide, 
And  lay  me  low. 

Nay,  glad  am  I  that  'tis  not  given 

To  me  to  choose  : 
To  me,  bewildered,  tempest-driven. 
How,  in  the  darkness,  could  I  find 
The  one  >afe  way  for  me  to  heaven  ? 
Wilful  and  wayward,  baffled,  blind, 
I  could  but  lose. 

And  so,  if  there  be  need  that  I, 

This  toil  and  strife, 
To  reach  the  Father's  house  on  high, 

Should  wearily,  with  wounded  feet, 
Keep  yet, — so  Thou  art  ever  nigh, 
To  choose,  to  help,  by  what  is  meet 
Bring  me  to  life. 


Qook  part  of  tbe  same. 


O  Thou,  whose  filmed  and  failing  eye, 

Ere  yet  it  closed  in  death. 
Beheld  Thy  mother's  agony 

The  shameful  cross  beneath  ! 

Remember  them,  like  her.  through  whom 

The  sword  of  grief  is  driven  : 
And  oh,  to  cheer  their  cheerless  gloom. 

Be  Thy  dear  mercy  given  ! 

Let  Thine  own  word  of  tenderness 

Drop  on  them  from  above  : 
Its  music  shall  the  lone  heart  bless. 

Its  touch  shall  heal  with  love  ! 

0  Son  of  Mary!  Son  of  God  ! 

The  way  of  mortal  ill 
By  Thy  blest  feet  in  triumph  trod, 

Our  feet  are  treading  still; 

But  not  with  strength  like  Thine,  we  go 
This  dark  and  dreadful  way  : 

As  Thou  wert  strengthened  in  Thy  woe, 
So  strengthen  us,  we  pray  ! 


82 


Gbat  tbe^  vvttbout  us  sboulo  not  be 
mafte  perfect. 


Not  yet  made  perfect  !  they  without  us:  no  ! 
Read  what  the  Spirit  saith  :  long,  long  ago 
The  words  Were  written  on  the  holy  page, 
That  keeps  its  wasteless  freshness,  age  on  age. 

How  not  made  perfect ?— doth  there  linger  taint 
Of  sin  or  sorrow  on  the  robe  of  saint  ? 
Doth  shadow  darken  uncreated  light? 
Dotli  Paradise  conceal  a  germ  of  blight  ? 

Is  our  faith  vain,  that  in  the  eternal  home, 
Over  the  rest  and  peace  (Tin  never  come 
A  ripple  :  not  the  slightest  trace  of  ill, 
Over  the  love  and  life  no  breath  of  chill  ? 


83 


THAT   THEY   WITHOUT   US  SHOULD   NOT   BE 
MADE   PERFECT. 

Oh  no,  not  this  ; — only  the  promise  sweet, 
That  heavenly  joy  will  never  be  complete 
Till  the  last  feet  have  stepped  the  threshold  o'er, 
And  not  a  child  is  left  outside  the  door; 

When  the  whole  family  in  heaven  and  earth 
Is  gathered  home, — oh  ecstasy  of  mirth  ! — 
The  eldest  and  the  youngest,  side  by  side, 
No  vacant  place  ;  so,  ever  to  abide. 

We  wait, — how  wearily, — to  see  the  door 
Open  for  us :  love's  clasp  forevermore 
To  gain  and  keep  ;  love's  ringing,  welcome  cry 
To  hear  ;  our  own  to  have  eternally. 

But  we  are  not  the  only  ones  who  wait  : 

For  on  the  other  side  the  glowing  gate 

They  stand,  the  blessed,  with  their  shining  feet, 

Waiting  for  us  :  that  will  their  heaven  complete. 


Cbe  Veil 


Close  beside  the  veil  I  stand, 
Longing,  looking  eagerly, 
If  there  might  touch  mine  the  hand, 
Mortal  eye  no  more  can  see  : 

Clasped  in  mine  that  went  so  lung. 
Clasp  so  tender  and  so  strong. 

Listening  if  some  lightest  tone 

Might  unto  my  eager  ear. 
Token  to  my  spirit  lone 
Give  of  my  beloved  near. 

Sweeter  music  could  uol  be, 
Of  all  music  sweet,  to  me. 

Dreaming,  I  can  see  the  face, 

Radiant  with  love's  dear  light  ; 
Waking,  waiting,  not  a  trace 
Comes  to  greet  my  wistful  sight. 
Mine  yet,  though  by  me  unseen, 
Only  hangs  the  veil  between. 

He  will  rend  the  veil  T  know. 

When  His  wise  and  holy  love 
Deems  it  best  for  me,  and  so, — 

Heart  and  hope  in  Him  above — 
"Waiting,  stand  I  trustfully, 
Till  as  I  am  seen,  I  see. 

85 


1Ro  ntabt  tbere. 


There  shall  be  no  night  there  ! 
Daybreak  eternal,  shadows  fled  away 

Never  to  come  again,  sin ,  sorrow,  care 
Ended  forever  at  the  dawn  of  day. 

And  there  they  die  no  more  ! 
Death  hath  no  power  save  over  mortal  breath. 

And  they  immortal  are  ;  outside  the  door 
Within  which  they  are  living,  dead  lies  death. 

No  longer  shall  be  time  ! 
Xo  sun  to  set,  no  moon  to  wane,  no  star 

To  struggle  with  the  night;  no  mournful  chime 
To  count  the  hours  ;  heaven  needs  no  calendar. 

There  no  decrepitude 
Will  gain  on  strength,  no  weariness,  no  age, 

No  pain,  no  tears,  no  dreary  solitude  ; 
And  not  a  grave  in  that  fair  heritage. 

In  life's  sweet  ecstasy, 
Not  now  in  part,  but  even  as  they  are  known. 
The  blessed  know,  and  face  to  face  they  see. 
In  light  ineffable  from  the  eternal  throne. 

86 


mntfl  tbe  ^ag  break. 


Oh  the  golden  light  adorning 
Heaven's  pellucid  placid  morning  ! 
Not  a  shadow  o'er  it  trailing, 
Not  a  sound  of  woe  or  wailing 
On  its  winsome  music  jarring. 
Not  a  cloud  its  splendor  marring; 
Rarest,  fairest,  loveliest, 
Perfect  beauty,  perfect  rest  ! 

Oh  the  clear  unhindered  vision 
In  the  lustrous  light  elysian  ! 
Where  the  beauty  is  resplendent. 
And  the  peacefulness  transcendent 
Where  decay  can  touch  life,  never  ; 
Where  love's  tenure  is,  forever  ; 
Where  upon  immortal  eyes 
Glows  the  light  of  Paradise. 

87 


UNTIL  THE   DAY   BREAK. 

Oh  the  gladness  of  the  waking, 
When  the  longed-for  day  is  breaking  ! 
Oh  the  pure  ecstatic  pleasure, 
When  to  love  its  precious  treasure.. 
In  the  safe  and  changeless  heaven, 
Will,  forevermore,  be  given  ! 
When  the  weary  hears  Him  say  : 
Come, — and  rises  to  obey. 

Oh  the  rapture  of  re-union, 
And  the  blissful  sweet  communion 
Of  the  hearts,  long-time  asunder, 
One  in  light,  the  other  under 
Sorrow's  nightfall,  day  awaiting. 
Never  faith  nor  hope  abating, 
Be  it  peace,  or  be  it  pain  : 
Now,  no  more  to  part  again  ! 

Oh  to  see  the  King  in  beauty  ! 
Heaven  to  find  in  love's  glad  duty  ! 
In  His  radiant  likeness  glowing, 
And  as  we  are  known,  so  knowing  : 
In  the  light  that  cannot  alter, 
In  the  love  that  cannot  falter, 
Every  shadow  fled  away. 
At  the  dawn  of  endless  da  v. 


flfcafre  60  mucb  better  than  tbe  Hnaete. 


Thrones,  principalities,  and  powers, 

Might,  and  dominion  ;  so,  by  name 
He  names  His  angels  ;  over  ours 

Their  heavenly  rank. — their  feet  of  name 
Tread  with  step  of  potent  kings 

Where  mortal  men  are  impotent  : 
And  thus  the  Maker  of  all  things, 

To  govern  all  things  is  content- 

The  seer,  in  the  lonely  isle 

Of  Patmos.  saw  in  awful  light 
The  marvels,  which  all  other  while 

Are  hidden  deep  from  mortal  sight. 
The  angel  standing  in  the  sun, 

The  angel  with  the  power  sublime 
Over  the  winds  ;  that  mighty  one 

Whose  oath  will  end  all  mortal  time. 


Bq 


MADE   SO   MUCH   BETTER   THAN   THE  ANGELS. 

Nor  only  he  ;  the  rocky  door 

Of  the  lone  sepulchre  swung  wide 
As  came  the  angel :  on  the  floor 

The  grave-clothes  dropped  that  morning  tide 
When  rose  The  King  ;  the  soldiers  lay 

Like  dead  men  at  the  fearful  sight ; 
What  wonder  !  how  could  mortal  clay, 

Endure  the  awful  heavenly  light. 

Till  ends  the  age  ; — and  then  the  King 

Of  these  angelic  kings,  will  He. 
The  Father  of  all  glory ,  bring 

In  matchless  might  and  majesty. 
And  set  Him  far  above  them  all, 
"Blessed  and  Only  Potentate," 
And  at  His  flame-wrapped  feet  will  fall 

The  grand,  the  glorious,  the  great  ; 

The  First  Begotten ;  His  the  feet 

Once  torn  by  nails  on  Calvary  : 
Angels  His  triumph  vast  will  greet, 

Will  worship  Him  eternally. 
And  men,  for  whom  the  cross  He  bare. 

Rescued,  redeemed,  and  made  His  own. 
Who  bore  on  earth  His  cross,  will  share 

His  glorious,  supernal  throne 


Hfcoratton. 


Casting  down  their  crowns  before  Thee 
White-robed  elders,  Lord,  adore  Thee. 

Cherubim  with  lips  of  flame, 
With  them  in  the  worship  vieing, 
'Holy,  holy,  holy  "  crying, 

Laud  and  magnify  Thy  Name  ! 

Lamb  once  slain,  and  Judah's  Lion, 
Throned  upon  the  heavenly  Sion, 

Root  of  David,  Thee  they  praise  ! 
Singing  :  Glory,  honor,  power, 
Are  Thy  wasteless,  rightful  dower, 

Throughout  everlasting  days. 

And,  like  mighty  thunderings  o'er  us, 
Rolls  the  grand  angelic  chorus, 

In  its  awful  majesty  : 
Myriad  rapturous  tongues  confessing  : 
'Wisdom,  riches,  glory,  blessing, 

Lamb  of  God,  belong  to  Thee.'' 

King  of  kings,  and  may  our  lowly 
Mortal  lips,  the  worship  holy 

Dare  to  join,  in  faith  and  love  ! 
Us  on  earth  Thy  life  enfolding, 
They  in  heaven  Thy  face  beholding. 

Thy  one  Church,  below,  above. 


Ebe  Iflemnant. 


The  toil  worn  feet  at  length  have  come 
Close  to  the  way-mark  Heaven  hath  set, 

To  show  how  near  the  restful  home, 
How  few  the  miles  remaining  yet. 

A  remnant  only  of  the  throng- 
That  started  out  in  brave  array, 

Alert  and  jocund,  swift  and  strong, 
Is  this  that  falters  up  the  way. 

The  rest, — for  them  the  lucent  gate 
Swung  wide  ere  they  could  faint  or  tire  ; 

The  blessed  !  not  for  them  to  wait, 
But  hear  the  bidding  :  "  Come  up  higher  "! 

And  these  are  left  the  way  to  climb, 
Nor  dream  of  turning  back  again, 

Nearer  each  day  the  edge  of  time, 
The  boundary  of  care  and  pain. 


THE   REMNANT. 

Lonely,  but  not  alone,  for  love 
On  earth,  in  heaven,  the  truest,  best. 

And  His,  all  other  love  above. 
Keep  close  beside  the  weariest. 

Love,  life  of  life,  death  cannot  break  : 
How  can  it  ?  "  Love  is  strong  as  death." 

Death  cannot  hope  or  memory  take. 
Love-guarded  till  life's  latest  breath. 

Through  darkness  into  daylight  fair 
The  way  lies :  was  it  not  foretold  ? 

'The  evening  and  the  morning  were 
The  first  day  :"  runs  the  record  old. 

Evening  comes  first  :  night  ends  in  light  : 
The  night  grown  darker,  morn  draws  nigh, 

The  day-star  rises,  now  the  night 
Far  spent  is  :  dawn  is  in  the  sky. 


£b\?  will,  not  mine. 


Help  me  Thy  will,  not  mine,  ray  Lord  to  make 
My  law,  my  life  ;  ever  to  choose  and  take 
Thy  way  and  not  mine  own  ;  always  Thine  own 
Lovingly  take  for  mine,  and  so  be  shown 
The  path  of  life,  the  safe,  sure,  blessed  way. 
All  the  night  long  till  the  eternal  day. 

Make  me  content  to  follow  steadfastly 
Where  Thou  dost  lead  ;  in  Thy  dear  life  to  see 
Life's  meaning,  and  Thy  plan  to  me  unfold 
Gently,  as  Thou  did'st  to  Thy  saints  of  old: 
Make  me  Thy  "  via  crncis,  via  lucis,"  know. 
And  my  work  finish  ere  I  heavenward  go. 

Keep  by  me  ever  ;  if  the  night  be  long 
I  will  not  murmur,  I  will  sing  the  song 
Thou  givest  in  the  night  ;  Thy  company 
Will  cheer  the  way,  will  make  night  light  to  me 
Till  mine  do  meet  me  at  the  Father's  door, 
And  we  with  Thee  at  home  be.  evermore. 


/I&2  portion. 


Nothing  have  1,  nothing  have  ever  had 
But  what  Thy  love  to  me,  my  Lord,  has  given  ; 

And  if  that  love  lias  taken,  yet  the  glad 
Sweet  truth  remains,  it  still  is  mine  in  heaven. 

O  blessed  Lord,  so  well  Thy  work  is  done. 

There  is  no  need  of  its  undoing;  or 
( H  change  of  thought  in  Thee,  the  Holy  One; 

Once  done,  forever  done;  what  could  be  more  ! 

And  so,  content  am  I.  come  what  there  may 
From  Thee  to  me  ;  there  can  come  never  aught 

Hut  love  has  chosen  it.  and  all  my  way. 
Sunshine  or  shadow,  is  with  blessing  fraught. 


MY   PORTION. 

Only  sue] i  love  as  Thine  would  ever  bear 
Such  weakness,  folly,  frowardness  as  mine  ; 

And  still  with  gentle  heavenly  patience,  care 
For  life  like  mine,  enfolding  it  with  Thine. 

Whatever  Thou  hast  taken,  blessed  Lord, 
From  wild  heart-cravings  for  a  little  while, 

Thyself  Thou  leavest  ;  that  can  me  afford 

Hope,  help,  and  peace  ;  amid  my  tears  I  smile. 

Darkened,  bewildered  though  my  way  become. 

Chosen  in  lo.ve  for  me  it  is  ;  what  more 
Have  I  the  right  to  ask  !  it  leads  me  home  ; 

These  are  the  steps  up  to  my  Father's  door. 

The  life  immortal  surely  cannot  be 

Less  than  life  mortal  ;  joyful,  bright,  and  fair, 
In  love's  dear  wealth,  Thou  hast  made  that  to  me  ; 

Light,  life,  and  love  are  changeless,  endless  there, 


lUa^stoe  aoiui. 

My  wayside  song  ! 

So  far  along, 
By  so  much  nearer  home, 
The  weary  feet  have  come. 

A  pilgrim  yet, 
Why  should  I  tret, 
Though  there  be  hills  of  time, 
Twist  me  and  that  fair  clime 

Work  not  yet  done 

I  count  each  sun 
Until  I  hear  Him  say  : 
Come  !  and  I  speed  away. 

Sight  no  more  dim 

I  shall  see  Him, — 
Whom  seeing  not,  I  love,— 
As  they  see  Him  above. 

And  so  I  wait. 

Early  and  late, 
Until  His  blessed  will 
He  doth  in  me  fulfil. 

Blessed  are  they 

Content  to  stay 
Or  go,  as  He  the  sign 
Shall  give,  in  love  divine. 


%ox>e  is  strong  as  oeatb. 


The  prophet  took  the  lonely  path 
From  Cherith's  brook  to  Zarephath  ; 
Within  the  widow  woman's  door. 
From  her  well-nigh  exhausted  store, 
That  did  not  fail,  nor  waste  away, 
To  be  sustained  from  day  to  day. 

And  when  upon  the  prophet's  bed. 
Ere  long,  her  only  son  lay  dead, 
Elijah  prayed  :  and  lo,  the  child 
Was  raised  to  life,  and  to  the  wild 
Cry  of  tUe  mother's  agony. 
See,  thy  son  liveth  :  answered  lie. 

The  Master  to  the  maiden  dead, 

'Talitha  cumi  ":  gently  said  ; 

And  when  the  dead  child  heard  Him  speak. 

The  flush  of  life  came  to  her  cheek  : 

She  rose  and  walked,  for  life  had  come 

To  her,  and  gladness  to  her  home. 


98 


LOVE   IB  STRONG     vs   DEATH. 

Later,  outside  the  gate  of  Nain 
He  met  a  sad  funereal  train; 
And  laid  His  hand  upon  the  bier, 
The  while  the  bearers  paused  in  fear. 
Then  calmly  .said  :  "Young  man  arise  "! 
And  he  sat  up  before  their  eyes. 

And  to  his  mother,— mother  still, — 
Jesus  delivered  him  :  until 
Words  lose  their  meaning  this  must  stand 
This  record  ;  that  love's  vital  band, 
The  tie  between  them,  e'en  the  strain 
Of  death  could  never  rend  in  twain. 

Beneath  the  palms  in  Bethany, 
Beside  the  stricken  sisters,  He 
Stood  later  still,  confronting  death. 
And  while  they  heard  with  bated  breath. 
He  called  His  buried  friend  by  name  : 
•Lazarus  come  forth  "  !  and  Lazarus  came. 

To  earth  not  only,  but  his  home. 
At  Jesus'  call,  did  Lazarus  come, 
His  own  place  in  that  home  to  fill, 
Mary's  and  Martha's  brother  still. 
What  joy  of  heart  for  loving  eyes 
Their  <»wn.  restored,  to  recognize. 


99 


LOVE   is   STRONG   AS    DEATH. 

See  Mary  still  at  Jesus'  feet  ! 
And  Lazarus  risen,  sit  at  meat 
With  Jesus  !  while  with  manifold 
And  thankful  love,  just  as  of  old. 
Martha  takes  never  thought  of  rest. 
Intent  to  serve  the  Heavenly  Guest. 

And  when  the  Lord  of  life  and  death, 
Himself  had  yielded  up  His  breath. 
And  on  the  resurrection  morn, 
Came  living  back  to  hearts  forlorn 
That  loved  Him.  hear  Him  call  each  name 
'Mary."  "My  brethren''  !  still  the  same. 

All  glory  be  to  God  !  above 
All  gift  and  grace  abideth  love. 
Love  is  of  God  :  can  never  fail. 
For  God  is  love;  it  will  prevail 
O'er  every  foe;  it  mastereth 
Death  even;  love  is  strong  as  death. 


* 


m 


m 


SL 


